


Touch and Taste

by theredhoodie



Category: Hansel and Gretel: Witch Hunters (2013)
Genre: F/M, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:49:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theredhoodie/pseuds/theredhoodie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gretel didn't like being touched. Hansel didn't like tasting sweet things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch and Taste

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched this one night, made a video the same day and started this fic the next. I wrote it all in one sitting and like wow, I couldn’t help myself. I wrote it because it was the fic I wanted to read and I couldn’t find it anywhere so duh, I just wrote it myself. AND there’s a lil nod to the film where Ben brings over the book of all their things and mentions the circle of witches and they give each other a *look* that screams something *happened* there and bam! Okay, I’m done. –floats off to la la land-oh and thanks to lovely Emma for beta’ing this for me even though she hadn’t seen the movie!

Gretel didn't like to be touched by anyone especially men, with their ravenous eyes and wolfish smiles. Except Hansel. Hansel smashed the faces of men who looked at her the wrong way, breathed on her wrong, and especially those that touched her without her permission. It was a deeply ingrained response.

This response was learned in the years between being small enough to bolt and run and growing into her new self. The new self that attracted men's eyes, causing them to raked over her frame, near salivating at her blossomed form. It was as new to Gretel as it was to Hansel. He was accustomed to his sister skirting around, plucking free food from carts in the years before they were old enough to be considered worthy of gold for their services.

So when it was midday and Gretel disappeared, he didn't think much of it. They had decimated an ugly horned and scaly witch the previous night; the woods were safe during the day. It wasn't so much noticing how the town was low on its male population rather than a  _feeling_. The town backed up to the edge of the forest, which didn't look particularly scary in the daytime but had, until recently, housed an impressive witch.

A pistol in his belt, he wrenched an ax from a stump behind a small cottage and heard a scream that turned his vision red. Gretel didn't scream, but he knew it was hers. He ran toward the sound and nearly broke his neck falling down a steep decline that came out of nowhere. He got himself to his feet and stumbled on, up an incline and through a break in the trees. It took seconds to survey the scene.

Gretel kicking and screaming, forced onto the ground by two greasy haired men who had a hold on her arms. Two others stood, watching with twisted looks on their faces and a third, with bloody scratches down his face, was pulling up his trousers and spitting words.

Without a thought, Hansel sent a bullet at the looming figure of the man. It flew through the air and sliced through the thin skin of his cheek. Blood spurted and he fell back with a gargled scream. As their leader fell, the others turned on Hansel. None of them had guns. The blonde one thought rushing him was a good idea but Hansel buried the ax in his neck, cutting through to his spine and shoved the body away. The other one tried to run but Hansel shot him in the kneecap and he went down.

The two with their hands on Gretel were distracted and she twisted out of their grip, elbowing one in the groin and pushing herself to her feet. The other grabbed her hair and she sucked in a breath, bringing her head back sharply, connecting with his nose. He stumbled back and Gretel grabbed the head of the one still hunched over. She brought her knee up and his face down and smashed his nose.

Ax bloody from smashing through the skull of the blonde one, Hansel closed the short distance over to his sister, swinging the weapon in hand. It sliced through the man's leather and shirt, grazing his skin. He tried to swing at the witch hunter but misjudged the distance and ended up with Hansel's gun in his face. A moment later a bullet went through the man's skull, sending a blast of brain and skull out behind him before he slumped to the ground.

The last of them was curled up on the ground, moaning, face covered in blood. Gretel was staring at him, face stained with blood and dirt, streaks of tears down her cheeks. Hansel said nothing, cocking the gun and kicking the man over. He pleaded for his life and found himself looking at Hansel's hardened blue gaze. The bullet went right between his eyes.

It was only then that the haze of rage faded, Hansel dropped the gun and it disappeared into the grass. "Gretel," he breathed out, turning to his sister. She had turned and was looking into the distance with an intense look on her face, eyebrows furrowed. Her hair was wild, her dress torn and stained with grimy handprints and spatters of blood. Hansel reached for her. She turned her face to him, eyes filled with a ferocity filled with hatred and pain.

"Give me the ax," she said, voice thick and throaty. Hansel's lips parted as he breathed out an objection but he held out the blunt weapon and she took it in slender hands. Her knuckles turned white as it hung by her side and she picked her way through the field of bodies to the man crawling away. His jaw was nearly blown off, but he was still wheezing and scrabbling at grass to pull himself along. His pants were down by his ankles, showing his bare ass. What an undignified way to die.

Serves him right.

Gretel stomped on his hand and he let out a gurgle, head twisted to the side, eye wide. The last thing he saw was the bloodied end of an ax hurling down toward his head. She kept swinging the ax until his head was nothing but a pile of pulp on the ground. Hansel caught the wooden handle when she drew it back again, shocking her into seeing what she'd done. A sob bubbled up and her hands released the ax as she turned to collapse into her brother's arms, weak from her ordeal.

At sixteen, Gretel realized men weren't to be trusted, not if they weren't her brother. He would never betray her, never let any harm come to her. She stopped wearing dresses and he made her leather armor. She hardened her heart off for all but Hansel. She smashed many men's faces into bars if they so much as touched her for years following.

oOo

Hansel hated the taste of anything sweet. He would grimace at the fruit Gretel would try to make him eat. The only sweet thing he wanted in his mouth was the salty sweet taste between Gretel's thighs. It was years before he knew such a taste existed.

Four years had hardly softened Gretel's outlook on the male population, and the one constant was her brother. He was the one person she trusted with her life, the only one who could match her in every way. He built her a crossbow to match his gun when her whip was lost over a cliff. He knew as much about witches as she did.

Now he was the one breaking men's noses when they even looked at her funny. And there was plenty of  _that_. Men either found her beautiful and lusted after her, thinking her tight clothes were for their sake and not to help her fight for her life from witches. Or young men, near boys, were sweet and scared of her. Gretel was rarely spoken to as a person unless by her brother and the occasional white-haired man in town. Women thought she was odd and stayed away, or feared and sneered at her, thinking she'd try to steal away their husbands.

It meant a lonely existence, but Hansel was always there. He was the one who fought witches beside her, who had scars matching her own, who had trained her to fight before he really knew how to do that himself. They were all that each other had and they were the only things that mattered to each other.

A rarity was for them to be granted separate rooms in the towns they encountered, but Belsen was more charming than most. The townspeople had paid them a weighty fee in gold after the witch hunters had taken care of a secret witch ring, and given each sibling their own room with a view of the celebrating town. Some of the children hadn't made it, broken and eaten, but a majority of those taken had been returned to their parents.

The inn was loud underfoot as Gretel tiptoed down the desolate hall. Everything was bright and loud and she was sore from the fight, but she knew Hansel had gotten the worst of the beating. It wouldn't have surprised her if she found his bed empty, her brother having found a pretty girl to screw. She pushed the wooden door ajar and peered inside. The window was open, letting in a breeze and the light of a full moon.

"Hansel?" she whispered, one hand curling around the hem of her nightshirt. He didn't answer, but she heard him shift on the small mattress in the corner. The door squealed as she closed it and Hansel grumbled something in his sleep. She tiptoed over the worn floor to the edge of his mattress. He was sleeping on his back, a sheet twisted around his legs, head resting in the crook of his elbow, his other forearm thrown across his abdomen.

An inexplicable force had kept her from sleep and pulled her out of her bed, out of her room, here. It was like a hook in her belly, pulling her forward on an invisible string. The bluish moonlight made the bruises littered across Hansel's skin more defined than she remembered and she let her hand hover over the purple crackling across his right ribs.

The wooden frame creaked with added weight as Gretel crawled onto the mattress, bringing Hansel to a gentle consciousness as she lifted his hand and pressed his palm to her cheek. He woke to a weight on his legs and opened blurry eyes to find his sister straddling his waist.

"Gretel?" He willed the fingers of his hand to move, and they brushed against her warm skin. "What're you doing?"

She dropped her gaze and a smile appeared on her face as she used both hands to press his palm to her cheek. "I couldn't sleep," she said after a while. There was no silence, the air was filled with loud voices and badly played music. She moved her eyes to meet his and pulled his hand from her face, weaving her fingers between his. "I can't sleep without you close."

Hansel let out a breath through his nose and untangled his hand from hers; pulling his other arm from beneath his pillow, ready to move her off of him. But he wasn't fast enough. He didn't  _want_  to be, she was heavy and warm and solid, stunning in the moonlight with nothing but a thin shirt barely covering anything important. He wasn't fast enough and Gretel swooped down, pressing her lips against his, her hand bunching into the mattress at his shoulder, holding herself off of him. Her shirt dipped against his chest.

"Gretel," he murmured against her lips. He waited for this to feel wrong, for something to click within them and realize that they shouldn't be doing this. He might live on the outskirts of society, but he knew how the basics worked. This wasn't supposed to happen, but it felt like the most right thing he'd ever experienced in his life.

She pulled her head back and looked down at him, face half in shadow. "Hansel," she said slowly as if it were a question. And it was; she was waiting for his response. She knew he wouldn't hate her for the kiss if he pushed her away. She didn't know if she wanted him to shove her off or if she wanted him to do the opposite. That  _pull_  was still there in the deep parts of her that she'd blocked off long ago.

Slowly filling his lungs with air, he took his hand from behind his head and rubbed his eyes. He sighed out her name as he wrestled with himself for mere heartbeats before he moved his hand, pushing hair behind her ear, circling her forearm. The look in his eyes was inviting so she smiled for him, a dimple carved into the soft flesh near her perfectly shaped lips.

She slipped her hand over his chest, trailing the backs of her fingers up his neck and curling them into his short hair. "Thank you," she whispered before she kissed him, unsure of really what she was doing, but knowing she needed it. She let her other arm bend, bringing her chest flush against his, nothing but a paper-thin nightshirt between them. Hansel buried his fingers in her hair, moving his lips and guiding her along. She was young and inexperienced and she came to him. He was going to be the one to show her  _how_ , just like always.

He eased her mouth open with his tongue and she moaned as she got the first burst of the taste of him. He tasted of wheat beer and she of sweet honey mead. Hansel hated sweetness, the memories attached, the weakness of the sickness caused by it a constant reminder. But he didn't even think twice, bending his leg and pushing her forward, closer, her elbows landing on either side of his neck. A laugh rolled off her tongue and she took a breath, pressing her forehead against his. She was not weak; the next words out of her mouth were a demand, not a plea.

"Teach me."

That was what Hansel did: he learned things first and taught Gretel later. He hooked his fingers behind one of her knees, the flesh there hot to the touch, heating his own fingers. Calloused fingertips trailed down her jaw, lifting her chin so he could nip at her bottom lip. There was no going back, no hesitation now. Any thoughts of doubt left their minds, but how far would Hansel allow this to go in one night?

The bed was small, but he rolled them over, hovering over her on his elbows and knees. Gretel's heart fluttered in a moment of panic before she remembered this was Hansel: he would never hurt her. She lifted a hand to run her fingers over the familiar features of his face. She'd never seen him be so gentle. Neither had she been, despite her younger years when older women tried to change her from the ruffian child that she was.

He caught her mouth in a hot kiss, her fingernails dug into his shoulders. She didn't want gentle, but she didn't want rough either. She had no idea what she wanted except to fill the red hot need that was burning in places she didn't even know existed. Hansel kept himself propped up on one arm, the other traveled down the curve of her waist, over where there was a deep scar from a witch's metal fingernails from six months ago. Hansel had thought he would lose her, his beautiful, icy sister who could shoot almost as well as he could. He latched onto that feeling, needing to protect her, to always be around her. This was the life that had been handed to them and they had to make the best of it.

And they were. Heart beating against his ribcage, threatening to burst free, while her own was thrumming out an impossibly fast beat. His fingers moved from soft cotton to smooth skin and he dug his fingertips into her thigh. Gretel bunched up her hands in his short russet locks, pulling him closer. She wanted him closer, pressed against her, touching her everywhere at once. The space between them was too great and she didn't like just laying there, feeling heat radiate off of every part of him. One of his legs was between hers. He was still clad in his trousers and her in her nightshirt. Between them, it was just too much.

Her thoughts shattered like glass when his thumb brushed over the bundle of nerves between her legs. A moment later his finger slipped through her folds and thrust into her, sending shivers down to her toes and a gasp escaped her lips. Her hands lost their hold on his hair and slid to his shoulders as she wiggled beneath him and he scooted down the mattress an inch or two. She closed her eyes and twisted her head to the side as he moved his finger in and out. She was wet and hot and tight. A sheen of sweat broke out over her, she mewled in his ear and he kissed down her neck. Her eyes fluttered and she breathed in sharply when he added a second finger, keeping as steady a pace as he could. His breathing was growing shallower even with the little effort he was exerting, his erection growing, making him ache to bury himself inside of her.

Dragging his teeth over the dip of her collarbone, he kissed the spot, feeling her pulse beneath his lips. He pressed his thumb against her clit and she dug her nails into his shoulders again, arching her back with a moan. He rubbed and thrust and she felt an overwhelming warmth and tightness grow in her core, growing until something released and exploded all at once. Lights danced behind her eyes and her muscles clenched and shuddered and she clutched at him so tightly that she broke skin with her nails. Her eyes fluttered open as cold air attacked the place where Hansel's hand had just occupied as she felt warmth still spreading through her. She met his brighter than possible blue eyes for only a moment before he was gone, crawling off the bed and leaving her to slide her hands down over her belly and grip the bottom of her shirt, pressing her fists between her thighs as she brought her knees together.

This felt like celebrating, just as the rest of the town was doing. There was no guilt or shame; it just felt  _too_  right. It had always just been the two of them at least in the years that mattered. Ten years since their father abandoned them in the forest, ten years since they killed their first witch. There was never  _just_  Hansel or  _just_  Gretel, there was always Hansel and Gretel, they were a package deal. Be damned the social normalcies, they lived outside the rules, outside of normal.

She tossed her arm out across the empty half of the bed, eyes closing as the warmth within her dwindled. "Hansel?" She turned her head to the side, opening her eyes a fraction, showing her a blurry form of her brother.

"This feel right to you?" he asked, the weight of him on the bed next to her was comforting and she tucked her arms against her chest.

"Does it feel right to you?" she countered as he took her hand. His was larger, more calloused; hers was slim, calluses in all different places from her years with a whip as opposed to a gun or crossbow.

"Fuck yeah," he said, turning her face to him and crushing her lips with his own, pressing her hand against the bare flesh of his abdomen. She splayed her fingers across toned muscles as he took her head in both his hands and invaded her mouth with his tongue. Somehow she managed to be laying half on top of him, his erection pressed between them. The only piece of clothing left being her nightshirt, thin and barely there, but still keeping bare flesh from bare flesh. She wanted to feel her nipples hard against his chest, stomachs pressed and legs tangled, nothing but skin.

She moaned into his mouth as he pinched a nipple and twisted, sending jolts of painful pleasure through her abdomen. The fervor of their kisses ceased and everything stilled, his hands holding her waist, hers fisting into the mattress on either side of his head. Their eyes met, brown so dark they seemed black; blue so bright they could rival sapphires.

"Trust me?" Hansel asked in a husky voice.

She nodded. "Yeah."  _Always_  caught in her throat. It didn't need saying.

He rolled them over, this time leaving no space between them. He kissed her near bruised lips and slipped his hand between them, finding her sweet spot and moving his finger in a circle. The heat began to build again, warming her belly and spreading through her limbs. Their hearts picked up the pace almost in unison, and Gretel squeezed her eyes shut and pressed her hands back against the wall, fingers scraping across the old stone. Hansel's hand disappeared and he hooked his fingers behind her knees pulling her mere centimeters before he hovered over her. She could feel his breath on her face and she opened her eyes.

"Relax," he told her, in a totally different voice than he used when he was teaching her a new weapon. He needed to say no more; she knew how this worked, but the horrible memories attached were drowned out the moment he pressed his cock at her entrance.  _Relax, relax, relax_. Her arm curled around his, nails dragging across the sweaty skin of his upper arm, breathing out as he pushed farther in. It didn't hurt; how could it? Hansel would never hurt her. It was a feeling of being filled, uncomfortable, but not unpleasant. Her body seemed to know what to do, moving her legs and shifting ever so slightly to release the discomfort moments before he pulled almost completely out of her and she growled out an animalistic "no." Hansel smiled a cocky grin and she glared at him, their usual personalities bursting through.

He pushed in again, almost fully, faster than before. Her breath caught and he thrust again. "I hate you," she breathed out, dragging her nails painfully across his shoulders. In response, he buried himself completely inside her. She let out a cry and he grunted in satisfaction. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle, perfectly made to settle against each other. She never realized anything could feel like this and he knew she would feel amazing clenched around his cock, but this was something else. His elbows dug into the mattress and she gripped his arms as he began to move, breathing matched, the occasional kiss to capture a moan. She felt a slow building tightness at her core and she began to arch her back and move her hips to his rhythm, creating more friction. All pain had turned to pleasure and Gretel couldn't help but cry out as he thrust faster. She wanted a feeling like just minutes earlier: fireworks, her body hot and cold at once, and the shudder of pure pleasure. But this was all happening too slowly, without the shocking shivers from her clitoris. But there was tightness and pulsing and salty kissing.

The build suddenly spiked: Hansel took her hand and pushed it down between them. Her own fingers found that special spot and she was done for within seconds, multiple shivers sent from her belly outward, fireworks followed while he continued to thrust as her walls clenched around him. She muffled her own cry by biting down on Hansel's forearm, not hard, but hard enough. "Fuck," he gasped out before he emptied himself inside of her and she was hit with another wave of warmth. Another slick thrust or two and he stilled, nearly collapsing on top of her. They lay in sweaty bliss for mere moments before he pulled his cock out of her and rolled onto the spare side of the bed.

"Good thing there's a party downstairs," Gretel said as the temperature around her fell dramatically.

"I shouldn't have done that," Hansel replied. The moon had moved in the sky and the room was more darkness than light now.

Gretel frowned into the darkness. "What?" She tried to hide the hurt in her voice but failed miserably.

He sighed and shifted on the mattress. "Not that. Just…we don't need you getting pregnant," he muttered, muffling his words with his hand.

She hadn't thought of that. Of course they would need to be careful in the future. In the future? Were they going to keep doing this? "I'm always optimistic," she said with a shrug.

"Yeah, right," he scoffed, because she wasn't. She was often the more pessimistic of the two of them. "We'll worry about it tomorrow." He stood and she was once again left feeling alone.

"Are you leaving?"

"No," he said, and water splashed in the basic set by the window. "Just cleaning myself up."

Gretel settled back against the mattress. She didn't feel like she needed  _cleaning up_. She wanted to stay here; warm and fuzzy feeling, and the pain from injuries in the recent fight completely forgotten for a few hours at least. She moved around, pulling away the sheet and slipping under it, curling onto her side for a moment before she fell onto her back. Hansel pulled on his trousers once again and thought nothing of it before getting back into bed, joining her under the thin sheet. He slipped an arm around her middle and pulled her back to his chest and they curled together perfectly.

oOo

They met in bed every so often, when one of them needed it, the touch, the taste, the feel, the connection. Gretel got more accustomed to the acts; soon she was moving his hands where she wanted them, staying off her back and towering over him free of clothing. She liked to be on top, but only when they stayed within inns and barns and places with floors and roofs.

When they traveled long distances and were left to sleep under the stars, things were different. They would be quickly devoid of clothing, moving their hands over each other's familiar frames, kissing and growing slick and hard. He would kiss down between her breasts, over her belly and bury his face between her thighs, tasting and savoring as she curled her fingers into the damp ground or gripping his hair, forcing him to continue the tricks he played with her tongue. Before she came to that place of ultimate bliss, she would be pulled into his lap and ease herself on his awaiting cock. She'd rock her hips and he would kiss her breasts and then she would be on her back, a scratchy bedroll underneath.

They grew older and things became rougher. Never unkind, just faster and stronger. He would pound her so hard that she would ache between her legs for an entire day afterward. He carried the wounds of their after dark activities, bites and scratches.

Sometimes they wouldn't even remove most of their clothes, needing some fast fix. Her trousers would pool at her feet at best and he would grab her hips and enter her from behind. It was never as enjoyable as the nights they managed to spend together, the ones when their noises could be covered up by other sounds.

Hansel still threatened or punched anyone who looked at her wrong. She never felt like she was able to be touched by anyone other than her brother, no matter that she tried with the nicer young men who actually spoke to her and not at her. But she saw the look in her brother's eyes when she did so. Jealousy, protectiveness. They never talked about the things that transpired; they just happened when they happened. Hansel would attempt at speaking to the girls in town. He went on and on about gruesome witch hunts, and they would either be intrigued or disgusted. Sometimes he would get lucky, other times he wouldn't. When he saw his sister afterward, he wouldn't need to say "They aren't you" because she knew they weren't. What they had was something that didn't need words. Gretel didn't turn jealous like Hansel, she just liked being close to him when she could; she knew he was a man and he needed things that she couldn't give him…or things he wanted that she wouldn't.

They grew older, and they continued to do what they did: hunt witches. Their arsenal grew, Gretel became the better shot than Hansel. She got looks from men still, and some woman even tossed around whispers about why she was alone traveling with Hansel. They didn't look alike, she knew that; some people didn't believe they were siblings, but most did. It didn't stop rumors from floating, rumors that were strikingly true. But they had never been caught. They were careful.

No one could understand what they had between them. No one had been through what they had been through. No one grew up the way they did, with no one but each other. She would be lost without him, and Hansel would become undone if he lost her. Sometimes they both dreamed of giving up the job and moving away where no one had ever met them, pretending to not be brother and sister and living the way they wanted. But they never voiced their mutual ideas because it was preposterous. They were mercenaries, it was just who they were. They dressed in leather armor and shot guns and crossbows and had killed hundreds of witches.

So what if they tore off each other's clothes behind closed doors, shoved theirs tongues into each other's mouths, felt and rubbed and stroked each other. It just felt right and good and they would never stop. It completed them, grounded them, and brought them closer.

Gretel always visited an apothecary at the end of their visit, to gather more medicine for Hansel and some for herself. It wasn't medicine as much as some potent mix of herbs that were the ultimate type of birth control. She didn't know how it worked, but she took it and stayed without child. Their lives, their work would be ruined if that ever happened. They were leaving the area, so whoever was behind the counter would have little reason to spread rumors, especially about the people who had saved their town.

Ten years of  _this_ , and yet it never failed to ease the tensions within them, calm them and focus them on each other. Sometimes they fucked following a fight, if their injuries weren't bad, just to make sure the other was okay. Other times they were just too badly wounded and they would just lie near each other until they felt better. There were times when they didn't even have sex; after near drowning after a fight against a Serpent Witch, Hansel curled his arms around Gretel and stayed up most of the night clutching her, his head resting on her bosom as she stroked his hair and stayed awake as long as he did.

And there were times, like after Augsburg, when both of them had been through hell and back, when they learned of their witch heritage and had the constant reminder of it by Muriel's glowing wand and their mother's old spell book, Gretel had a crisis of faith. She was from a bloodline of witches, how could she keep fighting them? One of these very crucial nights fell on a day of celebration in a town thirty miles from Augsburg. Edward stayed in the forest and Ben's room became the loft above a horse stable.

Gretel was once again standing at the window of the small room for her and Hansel, staring at the wand that glowed when she touched it. Somehow she couldn't just throw it away. It would be so easy to break it in half and let it decay into nothing. Much like their first night together, the celebration in the inn tavern was rowdy and loud. She hadn't even heard Hansel enter the room.

"You need to stop staring at that fucking thing," he muttered, unbuckling his vest. None of their wounds were fresh, they were leftovers from Augsburg. They had killed so many witches there and they were running low on things to kill.

"I can't stop," she said harshly, gripping the wand in her hand until her knuckles turned white. "I wish I could…"

Hansel walked up behind her, reached around her and yanked it from her hand. " _Stop_ ," he told her. He took the wand in both hands and, without a thought, broke it in two over his knee.

"NO!" Gretel yelled, eyes growing wide as she lunged forward.

Hansel tossed the pieces behind him and grabbed her shoulders. "It's useless now," he said, shaking her slightly. "Get a hold of yourself, sis."

"How could you do that?" she asked voice venomous.

In response, his face softened. "Because I hate seeing you tear yourself apart over something that doesn't matter," he said, voice firm.

Gretel clenched her jaw and held his gaze for a long time before she let out a breath and all the tension left her muscles. She leaned against him, her hands on his shoulders.

"It doesn't matter?" she asked. It had been bothering her so much, to think that her brother no longer wanted her because she was some White Witch.

"Not to me," he replied, moving a hand to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheekbone. "Understand?"

Her eyes glistened with tears, but she nodded and blinked them away, threading her fingers through the shortest hairs behind his head and pulling her face to his for a kiss. It was needed, oh so needed, and wanted. They hadn't touched each other in this way since before Augsburg, before an almost rape, before they found out  _good_  witches existed, before they learned the true fate of their parents.

Because of this, they savored every touch, every sense going into hyper drive. They kissed for a long while, lingering, open-mouthed kisses where Gretel pushed Hansel back against the wall and he let her. She wasn't wearing any of her armor, which awaited them, along with their weapons, in the forest with Edward. It made it easier to work at the buttons on her thin corset. He did it lazily, until she had enough and stepped back to undress herself from boots to leather pants to corset and shirt, leaving her naked. Hansel took less time with his boots and trousers and shirt. He gingerly took off his watch and laid it on top of everything else, and he shut the window. When he turned around, she was clothes less and stunning as ever, scars curving over her hips, across her ribs, down her legs. His most prominent scar was the one from Muriel's stabs that left him near dead. Gretel instantly ran her hands over the magically healed wound.

"How would I get through this without you?" she murmured before she realized it.

Hansel hooked a finger under her chin and lifted her eyes to his. "You can take care of yourself," he said, trying to be smart but she was having none of that tonight. Tonight was less fucking and more lovemaking. Her arms snaked around his neck and she pressed herself flush against him, lips going to his own for a moment before she simply embraced him, hiding her face in the crook of her elbow. His arms circled around her, running soothing circles over her pale skin. "I promise to keep sticking around," he said quietly. "The kid's not smart enough to take care of the fuckers who look at you."

Gretel smiled slightly and then rolled her eyes, falling back onto the heels of the feet and looking him in the eye, raising one eyebrow. "Just for looking at me?" she teased.

"Fuck yeah," he replied, pulling her against him again with one arm around her lower back. He squandered any protests with a kiss and moved them backward until the backs of her legs hit the edge of the mattress and he lowered her down onto her back, just where she disliked being. She captured his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled to show her displeasure, but released him so he could leave hot kisses down her neck and suck on her nipple. He nipped it with his teeth and then he ran his tongue over, working at the other with his fingers, twisting and squeezing in just the right way. Gretel already felt herself growing wet. Her hands fisted into the light blanket laid out over the bed, feeling her desire for quickness slipping away as Hansel kissed down to her navel before spreading her legs more.

She knew the sensations well, but it had been a long while since she and Hansel had time to really feel every little thing. He pushed her folds apart with his fingers and licked and sucked in all the right places. The jolts of that pleasure-pain raced through her when he ran his teeth over her clit and she let out a whimper. Not wanting to tip her over the edge just yet, he slid up her body and she kissed him, tasting herself. He pressed his torso against hers and his cock began to stiffen.

Breaking off a lazy kiss, Gretel scooted back onto the bed the proper way, with her head to the pillows. He laid himself next to her and she rolled onto her side, pressing herself against his side and running her leg up and down his before she stretched herself enough to kiss his chin and pinched one of his nipples. He grunted, and she laughed lightly, knowing how much he hated that.

Any thoughts of her heritage and Muriel's wand were gone from her mind as she climbed on top of him, straddling him and reaching to stroke his cock with her hand. It responded to her touch, growing and stiffening. She smirked slightly and leaned forward, trapping the erection between their stomachs. "I've missed you," she said softly as she kissed his adam's apple and the corner of his mouth before she sat back and began rocking back and forth, sliding her wetness over his cock. He let out a groan of protest and pleasure before having enough and grabbing her hips to stop her. They met each other's eyes in a defiant standoff that lasted just seconds before she was sinking down onto his quivering cock.

Hands splayed across his chest, she began to move in a way she'd perfected years before. It hit nearly all the right spots, though it had to be a slow process, one that left Hansel gripping her legs and leaving bruises. She liked the slowness, the building of her climax a dull sensation deep inside her. But she could only last so long, and Hansel met her right there, wrapping his arm around her and moving her under him, a position switch they did often enough that it needed little adjustment to make things feel  _just right_. When her legs pressed against his hips, his began to move at a steady rhythm and he dipped down to kiss her, sucking at her bottom lip before he kissed her jaw, tasting salt.

Her moans of pleasure were constant: sighs, hitches of breath, everything to do with missing  _this_. Hansel didn't care about anything she spent days worrying about, he still wanted her, and she loved him for it. He would always accept her and they would always meet like this, with hot breaths, drumming hearts and loving bruises afterward.

"Missed you, too," he breathed into her mouth before he hiked himself up so he could change thrusts, moving faster. Her hips bucked along with him and he had already gotten her so close to the edge with just his mouth before that she had no need to do anything further. The growing tightness was a sign and she bit her bottom lip in anticipation, locking her legs around him so he couldn't change positions.

"Don't stop," she gasped out, her nails sinking into his flesh, leaving half-moon shapes across his back. He moved faster, feeling his own climax speeding up. She whimpered and arched her back as he thrust deeper and then came the release. It happened at the same time for both of them. She cried out, her muscles clenched and he filled her with extra pumps, leaving her to shudder as warmth filled her and her back fell against the mattress, muscles going from tense to wobbly within seconds. He pulled his cock out of her but lay between her legs for some time, resting his head on her breasts, listening to her heart beat slow until they were a chilly, sticky mess.

Finally, Hansel untangled himself from her and made it to the water basin before Gretel even swung her legs off of the bed. She rolled her eyes, not letting them linger on the broken pieces of wand laying in the corner by the door, instead moving her eyes to the blanket, the evidence of their night already staining the blue fabric.

"What are we going to do with this?" she asked with a sigh.

Hansel glanced over and shrugged. "They'll probably just think I was in here by myself for a while," he said with a cheeky grin. She shook her head and tossed a pillow at him. He ducked and it hit the wall harmlessly.

"Hey, I'm trying to clean here," he snapped, though there was amusement in his tone.

Gretel stood and moved to pick up the poor weapon that had missed its target. "Why don't you go find some food downstairs," she told him, hitting him on the back with the pillow on her way back to the bed. He looked at her with a look of annoyance but got dressed anyway, exiting the room without a word, leaving her alone.

She got off of the bed the moment the door closed and she walked over to the wand, now broken into pieces. It didn't glow when she touched it, and she felt a weight lifted, even more so than Hansel's demonstration of wanting her even through everything they had learned of their past. They couldn't leave the pieces here, they had to be disposed of properly in flames, so she moved them next to her pile of things that she had brought in. After washing herself as best as she could, she pulled on her nightshirt, which was a new one after ten years, but still as thin and short hemmed as always. One look at the stained blanket and she pulled it off the bed, rolling it up and standing in the middle of the room, where she stayed until Hansel came lumbering back in with little grace, balancing a plate with meat and cheese and a pint of beer in his hands. He stopped short when he saw her.

"What's wrong?" he asked, nearly dropping the things in his arms.

Gretel blinked and shook her head. "Nothing, I just…" she shook her head again and dropped the blanket, kicking it under the bed. She then stepped forward to grab the plate of food, sitting on the edge of the mattress and eating a piece of freshly cooked meat. Hansel shrugged and closed the door fully, moving to sit against the wall opposite her, sliding down to sit on the floor with the beer.

"How're you feeling?" he asked after a moment, never taking his eyes off of her.

Her hands stilled and she paused for a moment before she went on chewing the food in her mouth before looking across at him. "Better," she said honestly. "Thank you." She wasn't just saying that to thank him for asking, she was thanking him for everything. For the understanding, for not giving her up after learning she what she was, for staying with her, for saving her life, for loving her even if they never said it.

But he knew all that. They weren't twins, but they did have some sort of inexplicable connection. It's why they couldn't spend much time apart without feeling that tug to go find the other as quickly as possible. It's why they needed nights like this; they needed to feel a part of the other in and around them. They needed each other in ways no one else would ever understand.

"We're gonna be cold tonight," Hansel muttered after the silence had expanded minutes, giving them time to finish eating and drinking. Gretel stood and took the plate and mug to the door, leaving them outside. "I bet that blanket's filled with spiders and dust and cobwebs now," he grumbled.

"Afraid of a little spider?" she teased, moving back to the mattress and crawling onto it, taking her place closest to the wall. The bed was bigger than most they stayed in. Hansel stripped out of his boots and crawled under the thin sheet. He slipped an arm around her middle and pulled her against him, their legs bending automatically together, settling against each other like they were meant to be. His hold on her stayed strong for minutes before it began to loosen as he relaxed, but she still snuggled back against him. As they both reached the edges of sleep, she said, "See, you'll keep me warm." Nearly unconscious, the response from him was a whispered out word that tickled her ear:

"Always."


End file.
